The Loft Invasion
by Judgmental-Slug
Summary: In which the roommates argue over what to do when an uninvited guest shows up on their doorstep.


So, here's the thing.

It's only a small thing, and extremely cute, but no matter how much you beg to keep it, the guys refuse. You call it Nibbles, although you debated with yourself for hours, because there are so many names. It was a close call, Nibbles was nearly called GeGe (your convinced it is a reincarnation of one of CeCe's ancestors; it's coat looks so soft and shiny like CeCe's hair) but you decided on Nibbles, because you weren't sure if it was a lady or a gentleman, so you went unisex. It's brown, and it wiggles it's nose in that adorable way that reminds you of your hamster you had when you were six (yes, the one that your mom gave away because it bit you once. Fluffy didn't like ribbons, you learned a little too late.) but you're pretty sure this one is friendly. Schmidt tells you not to touch it, you might get rabies, so you prod it's back as a sign of affection. The guy's take turns in yelling at you, but you don't care because you were the only one not scared enough to go near the little fellow. It feels like Nibbles is one of the family, like he's been here always, but Nick tells you it's been here too long already.

It was that afternoon when you returned home from work that you stumbled upon Nibbles. Your day had been a blur of finger painting and story time, but the work day was over now and it was time for you to let your hair down. The day looked like a good one. Maybe have a long warm bath, or grade some papers so you're ahead, or curl up on the sofa with Nick and watch a movie (with popcorn, you remember, Nick tells you it's not a movie without popcorn.) Yep, the day ahead looked easy, and you couldn't wait to start.

You whirlwind into the loft, dropping your bags on the counter and singing a friendly 'hello' to Nick sprawled out on the sofa.

"Movie?" You ask, making your way back to the sofa.

"Sure." He shrugs as you perch on the sofa next to him, and his arm falls around you instinctively (it still sends shivers down your spine, you guess the realization that Nick is your boyfriend hasn't quite settled in yet as you feel giddy whenever he leans in close, or holds your hand, and you can't help but smirk when Winston and Schmidt roll their eyes). Loft dynamics don't bother you right now as you settle down to watch The Breakfast Club. Nick lets you watch it, although you doubt he is paying attention as he absent-mindedly runs his fingers through your hair. Schmidt returns from work towards the end, narrowing his eyes at you in disgust, followed by a flustered Winston, who is really disappointed when you tell him Schmidt already showed his disapproval of 'cutesy couple-ly things' for the day. You all have dinner and head off to your respected rooms. Your new bed cover has kittens printed on it and you feel kind of mean lying on top of them, but the floor is uncomfortable and you need to grade papers. All seems to go well as the sun sinks further down into the sky. That is until a girlish scream comes from the kitchen. It sounds an awful lot like Nick, and you smile. He's such a baby sometimes.

And sure enough, Nick is standing on the sofa, newspaper rolled into a makeshift weapon gripped tightly in hand.

"Something crawled on my leg!" He shrieked, as Schmidt and Winston join you to stare in bewilderment.

"What? Are you sure it wasn't your imagination?" You ask, smirking at how ruffled and flustered he looks.

"I was there," He pointed to the opposite end of the sofa. "and it came from there." He guestered towards the hall you are stood in.

"I should of known the creature emerged from your trash can of a room, Nicholas." Schmidt tuts. "You should listen next time I give you tips on hygiene and maybe then we wouldn't have deadly mutants reproducing in our apartment and killing us in our sleep. You'll be the first to go, Nick."

"Don't overreact Schmidt," You roll your eyes. "Tell us what happened."

And he tells you, in great detail, the fatal attack of the mysterious creature(that was as big as a tiger and quick like a fox, according to Nick) and how Nick, the mighty warrior, defended the loft from invasion, only to lose the predator.

"Sounds like a mouse." Winston shrugs.

"What part of razor sharp teeth do you not understand?" Nick argues, annoyed.

He looks so cute, but try as he may, you're pretty sure it's a mouse too.

"Let's catch it." You tell them, and they all agree, but not after giving you terrified looks of refusal.

Sometimes you swear you live in an apartment with the kids from school.

The guys get annoyed at you when you quote 'we're going on a bear hunt' in a singsong voice so you devote your time and energy into designing the mouse catcher(erer). You even draw a handy little diagram, but the guys don't appreciate it and dismiss it(there's too much glitter, they say) but you figure their stupid boys and don't know anything. In the end, the mouse catchererer is constructed out of a bucket, a piece of cardboard, and a perfectly cut slice of Schmidt's fancy Swiss cheese. They didn't follow your diagram, and instead came up with one of their own – to your distaste. The cardboard was cello-taped to the kitchen counter (where Schmidt figured the mouse would run) rather haphazardly, hanging off the counter, with the cheese positioned on top, and the bucket on the floor. The guy's logic was the 'creature', as Nick insisted, would run onto the cardboard trap, fall and land in the bucket.

"What are you doing!" You gasp, horrified.

"Filling the bucket with water." He explains simply.

"But the mouse will drown!" You shriek.

"That's the point."

"You can't kill him!" You try to reason with him, but it doesn't seem to be working, as you can see Winston and Schmidt staring at you wearing their 'Jess is an idiot' face.

"If we don't kill him he'll come back."

"But he's just minding his own little mousey business," You try.

"Mousey business?" Winston interrupts.

"It's not a mouse guys!" Nick argues.

"Dirty vermin, Jess! Contaminating our loft!" Schmidt shakes his head in disgrace.

You stare at them, pleading with them to save the little critter.

"Look Jess, things die to make way for other things." Nick starts.

"He's a guest, Miller. And when guests stay you don't try to kill them!"

You hear Schmidt tut 'guest' a couple of times, like the idea is ridiculous, but no one else seems to have the energy to argue, plus no water is put into the bucket, so you chalk that up as a win.

Later, when your all camping on the sofa, taking turns to watch for the mouse, ahem, creature, you reflect back on your time in the loft, and wonder how you could manage without these guys now, because you don't see how you did before. You almost thank Spencer. The whole heartbreak situation had taught you a lot of new lessons, and earned you a lot of new friends, and you feel older and wiser. When you think of you as wise you imagine yourself as you but just with a long whimsical white beard, and you can hardly suppress a giggle. Okay, so maybe you have a lot more maturing to do, but you've already done so much, and that's something. You snap out of your daydreams when you hear another Nick six-year-old girl scream.

"It's there!" He whispers, his voice quiet but erratic.

You all scramble to the bucket so you can see the creature.

"Mouse! Aha!" You laugh in triumph.

"Wow what sharp teeth!" Winston mocked.

"Definitely dangerous." Schmidt adds.

"Give Nick a break." You tell them, diverting your attention to the lovable little mouse.

"No one touch it, it's full of germs." Schmidt warns you, keeping a wearyb distance.

"We'll just move him to a more permanent home then we'll sort him out in the morning." You say, the voice of reason.

They all agree, and wonder off in search for a mouse sized bedroom.

Nick comes back with cardboard box, and you all explain more than once why that is a bad idea. You duct tape the roof of the box to the bucket anyway, lacking of any better options, and hope the mouse doesn't chew through it. You're pretty sure it can't climb to the top of the bucket anyway.

"Goodnight Nibbles." You whisper.

"Nibbles?" Nick questions with a raise of his eyebrow.

It was then you squabbled about the name, and whether or not names can have exclamation marks at the end. You say they can, and Nibbles definitely needs one. Nick says they can't, and he should know he's a writer. You say being a writer doesn't mean you know everything, and tell Nick to hush because Nibbles is sleeping. Your argument snowballs into lustful passion and you end up making out(out of the way of the kitchen, for Nibbles' sake.) You smile, because this is exactly what you wanted when you broke up with Russell.

Yep, you definitely couldn't live without these guys.

A whole two weeks later, Nibbles lives in a hamster cage on an oak table next to the sofa. After being checked for rabies twice, Schmidt finally allows you to keep the little guy. He lives luxuriously in his blue cage, with his little house to doze in and his bowl is always full with food.

Maybe too much food. He has grown plump but Schmidt assures you he will take care of it. He's going to make sure Nibbles will have a fury six pack by the end of next month and he'll be wowing all the ladies. Schmidt then attempted to tempt a girl back to the loft with promises of seeing Nibbles, but you yelled at him for using Nibbles like that and you feel like you need $100 dollars as compensation for the moral wrongdoing. Nick enforces that the punishment is met, and you all break open the douche bag jar and buy Nibbles a stylish new cage and cute miniature furniture to furnish his pad. Sometimes when you're alone on the sofa watching TV, Nibbles lets you know he wants to say hello by clamouring to the door and waiting there patiently. You let him stretch his legs in his pink mobile ball and wait for Nick to come home from work. Nibbles is part of the family now. You can't believe the guys wanted to kill him. Every time his nose twitches or he runs on his wheel, you thank your lucky stars they didn't. Even more so when you and Nick move out and take Nibbles with you. Even _more_ so when your daughter watches him for hours (way past her bedtime) with a bright smile on her face. You think you are so blessed little Nibbles chose your loft to visit as you stand by his little grave, and how much a mouse has enriched your life. Nibbles was so selfless, and you love him for it.


End file.
